Salem
by nemoed
Summary: Sent on her way by a message from the dead, Bonnie embarks on a journey to find herself. However, Damon promptly invites himself along. Things quickly go downhill from there. Bonnie/Damon. - indefinitely on hold.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Salem.

Rating: PG

Warnings / Spoilers: Up to the recent episode of TVD.

Summary: Sent on her way by a message from the dead, Bonnie embarks on a journey to find herself. However, Damon promptly invites himself along. Things quickly go downhill from there. Bamon.

Disclaimer: The Vampire Diaries and characters therein are the property of L.J. Smith and HarperCollins. The TV series is the property of the CW network, Alloy Entertainment, Kevin Williamson, Julie Plec, and various other persons. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: After real life forced me into a hiatus, I'm back with this little story. Echoes of the Past is currently being edited to fit in with the new canon and should be updated soon. I hope you enjoy reading! :)

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The sun had no business shining as brightly as it did. It just wasn't fair. Not when Grams wasn't there anymore to occupy her usual place on the couch, dropping bits of ash on the bright cloth as she smoked. Not when the low coffee table was covered with letters of condolence.

Bonnie Bennett sniffled and snuggled deeper into the couch. She sat on the exact spot where Grams used to sit – in that little dent her grandmother had created by years of sitting there, one leg up, the ashtray right next to her and a couple of books nearby. Bonnie held back a sob and pressed herself deeper into the soft cushions. The couch still smelled of Grams. It still held her form and Bonnie felt as if she just didn't fit. As if she simply couldn't fill the void left by her grandmother. By the witch.

Bonnie's vision blurred, the coffee table and all those ridiculous, formal condolence letter mashed together into a splotchy picture of dark brown and tan. Bonnie blinked them away but succeeded in nothing more than making them roll down her face. Slowly. Leaving a wet trail down her eyelids, then rolling to the edge of her nose to her upper lip. Reflexively she licked her lips, tasting salt for a second before resolutely wiping the tears away. She didn't have time for this. No time for sadness. No time for missing the woman who been more like a mother to her than her real – her biological – mother had ever been.

Bonnie pressed her lips together in determination and reached for the first letter. From the college. Bonnie unfolded the letter and skimmed its contents, frowning a little while doing so. It was very formal (so unlike the letters some of Grams' colleagues from the college had sent. Some smelling of spicy essences Bonnie couldn't identify or containing pressed flowers. Grams would have loved that).

In a sudden temper Bonnie crumpled up the letter in her hand and threw it away, as hard as she could. She didn't wait to watch the letter hitting a vase which started toppling dangerously for a moment.

Bonnie hid her face in her hands, shoulders trembling, her hair cascading around her face like a thick, dark curtain. She sobbed so hard that she almost didn't hear it. That _voice_. Bonnie blinked and looked up. "What?" she breathed.

"I said, I never liked that vase anyway." Her grandmother said and stepped into the room.

Bonnie froze, hardly daring to believe it. She opened her mouth to reply but found that no sound came out while her grandmother gave the vase an indifferent looking, striding into the middle of the room with her usual energetic movements.

"I think it's the pattern, something about the vines that unnerves me and who on Earth would put squirrels on a vase? I have no idea why I bought it." Grams thought for a moment. "Must have been a bargain."

Bonnie barely felt able to breathe. "Grams?"

The older woman halted and turned to Bonnie, wearing a soft expression. "Hello, honey."

Tears spilled over again as Bonnie decided she didn't care whether or not she'd gone insane (certainly justifiable considering what she had been through, she reasoned) and flung herself forward into her grandmother's arms. Or at least, that was the intention. One moment Bonnie approached her grandmother, barely registering the woman's slightly alarmed look, and the next _she passed right through her!_ It was only due to the speed of her reflexes (who knew that cheerleading practice could ever have a practical use, Bonnie thought absentmindedly) that she didn't crash right into the coffee table but managed to catch herself. Though only barely.

Bonnie turned around just in time to see Grams shrug.

"I'm sorry, honey. We can't touch."

Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "I noticed." And indeed, now that she got a better look, Bonnie realized how Grams looked a little...translucent. How the sunlight streaming in from the living-room window passed through her unhindered. She didn't even cast a shadow.

Bonnie pinched the bridge of her nose against an impending headache but to no avail. "I knew I shouldn't have drunk dad's tea."

The corner of Grams' lips twitched into a smile. "It's not the tea, dear – though that was a silly thing to do. You know that man likes to experiment with new flavors." She shook her head and very gently, hesitantly, reached out to cup Bonnie's cheek in her hand. It felt like being touched by the wings of a butterfly. "I'm so proud of you, Bonnie."

Bonnie shook her head, tears blurring her vision again. "You're dead." She sobbed and reached for a kleenex.

"Unfortunately, yes." Grams gave her a compassionate look.

"Are you a ghost?"

Grams shook her head. "No."

"Illusion? Figment of my overheated imagination? Something I dreamed up to make myself feel better? Because in that case – note to self – this is not helping."

Grams sighed and pointed to the couch. Bonnie gasped and dropped the package of kleenex. She was still sitting on the couch, the condolence letter in her hand. Bonnie-on-the-couch was fast asleep, a look of distress upon her face. "What?" she gasped and turned to her grandmother.

"We're in a dream."

"So...you're not real?"

"Oh, I'm real all right." Grams smiled. "You didn't just think me up, if that's what you're worried about." A thoughtful look passed over her face. "However, you did pull me out of...well, of where I was going to and we don't have much time."

"You mean, I'm going to wake up soon? Grams, I'll go and sleep more often and longer if that's how I can have you back!"

Grams shook her head. "That's not it, Bonnie. You're powerful – more powerful than you guess – but this is the last time we meet. I came to say goodbye and...and..." Her image flickered for a second, like a picture on a tv screen during bad weather. Bonnie's eyes widened as her grandmother moved forward, looking urgent. "You need to go _home_." She said.

"I _am_ home." Bonnie said, giving her an incredulous look.

"No, child. I mean _home_."

Bonnie shrugged. "Me, too. This is home. I've been more around this place than at dad's and you know that."

Grams' expression became slightly frustrated. "Look, there are restrictions. I can't tell you outright, so let's put it like that. Keep in mind that you need to go home in order to become what you are." She hesitated for a moment. "And you are not alone."

"Right. Can you get any more cryptic?" Bonnie snapped, then caught herself. "Grams, I miss you. I don't want to spend our last moments together like this. I want to...to..." A tear trickled down her cheek but she ignored it. "Don't leave me again." Bonnie whispered in a hoarse voice and Grams' eyes filled with tears as well, even as the older woman started flickering again.

"Listen to me, Bonnie. This is important." Grams vanished for a second, then flickered back into existence, her voice sounding as if it came from far away. "You need to go _home_ - there will be a sign. Only by going home you can become what you are and..." She froze and looked around. "You are not alone."

Tears ran down her cheeks unchecked now and Bonnie stumbled forward, intent on holding on to her grandmother just a moment. Just a precious second longer. "Don't go!" she cried as Grams' image became gradually more transparent and the edges blurred as if a glass of water had been poured of an aquarell.

"Remember..." Grams' voice came from far away. "Go home. Not...alone."

Bonnie shook her head. "No," she cried.

"No!"

~ * ~

Bonnie sat up with a sudden start, breathing rapidly. Wisps of her hair clung to her face and a quick check proved that she was indeed still on the couch. Gasping back a sob, Bonnie looked at her hand and found herself holding the crumpled up remains of the condolence letter. It had been a dream. She released a breath she hadn't even been aware she'd been holding and rubbed her face tiredly. All this nonsense about dream messages from the dead and home and signs and not being alone...

"Noisy sleeper."

The voice had the same effect as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been drained down her back. Bonnie's head snapped up and she glared at the intruder. "Damon."

He gave her a smile that didn't even come near his eyes. "Bonnie. You talk in your sleep." He tilted his head to one side and studied her face. "And you're leaking."

She blinked. "I'm what?"

Damon rolled his eyes, impatient as ever. "_Leaking_, girl. Metaphor for crying. Wailing. Being all teary-eyed. Weeping. Sobbing your heart out. Bawling. Boo-hoo. Take your pick."

"Get out, Damon." She said in an icy voice when something was flung at her. Bonnie caught it immediately and found, to her surprise, that he had thrown her a package of tissues. Sniffling, Bonnie took one out and blew her nose. She could hear Damon groan.

"Attractive." He said with biting sarcasm. Bonnie glared at him.

"If you feel offended by me, feel free to leave _my_ place." She finished wiping her nose and unconsciously started making herself more presentable. Not that it was an easy task considering her eyes were red and swollen from crying and her face was puffed up, making her feel as if a mad plastic surgeon had been let loose on her face. "How did you even get in?" She asked, somewhat belatedly.

Damon held up a piece of newspaper. "It says 'everyone who wants to pay their respects is welcome'." He shrugged. "I'm paying my respects to your grandmother."

"Funny way you've got of doing that."

Damon shrugged again and sat down on the edge of the couch with the air of a man who felt completely at home. "Clearly I'm a non-conformist." He smirked at the look of surprise on Bonnie's face. "What? You thought Stefan is the only one with big words?"

She rolled her eyes and contemplated for a moment to attempt to push him off the couch. "You paid your respects. Now get the hell out of here." Bonnie said in an annoyed voice and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Move. No one wants you here."

It might have been her imagination but for a second it seemed as if _something _- some shred of unexplainable emotion - flickered across his face before it settled back into the mask of cruel superiority she was used to seeing. But it had been there and now Bonnie's conscience started nagging and she had to remind herself who – what – this was. He was a monster, he'd proven that over and over again. Heartless, cold and...and looking like an abandoned puppy. Bonnie shook herself, then looked at Damon again. The man was lonely, she realized with a sudden start. Even among his family and so-called friends he was all alone. Grams' words came back to her in a rush and Bonnie shook her head in denial. _You are not alone_. Oh no. This clearly couldn't have been what Grams meant.

"No way." Bonnie said, still shaking her head. "No _way._"

"Talking to yourself is the first step toward insanity." The insufferable vampire said, not even bothering to turn around and face. Instead he was studying a pile of books her grandmother had stacked up next to the door.

Bonnie felt her headache return and looked to the door, hoping against hope that it would open and someone - _any_one but Damon – would come in and take his place. After a moment of silent staring she gave up and sighed. Perhaps it had just been a mistake. Her grandmother had been anything but clear about things. Perhaps she only meant that Bonnie had people who loved her (unlike Damon, a small voice in her head persisted). Of course, she told herself, Damon pretty much did anything in his power to push people away, so it really wasn't any wonder that no one wanted him around. Perhaps she should instead focus on the 'home' part of her grandmother's message. Perhaps she should find out where it was.

Filled with new determination, Bonnie stood up from the couch. She needed to be alone to think things through. Where was this place? Where was 'home'? How was she going to find it and...?

A dull, thudding sound interrupted her thoughts as the pile of books Damon had been looking at toppled to the ground. He looked somewhat startled himself, Bonnie thought, just as Damon spoke.

"I didn't touch those books." He said, eyeing the pile of books warily. "Did you do some witch-y thing?"

Bonnie shook her head in denial, her eyes fixed on the books, now lying innocently on the ground. She advanced when the topmost book suddenly opened and Bonnie came to an abrupt halt, her eyes wide in surprise. The pages turned quickly as if moved by a very fast reader or an unfelt wind and for a moment the room with filled with nothing but the rustling sounds of turning pages. Back and forth as if undecided where to stop. Damon, fascinated despite himself, approached the book. He studied it with a look of concentration on his face, then raised his gaze to meet Bonnie's eyes.

"You're still not using magic?"

"No." She breathed and crossed her arms across her chest protectively. "What could possibly..?"

All of a sudden all sound ceased and the pages stopped turning. The book lay open on the floor, looking for all the world as if nothing strange had ever happened. Bonnie made a move to pick it up but Damon was too quick for her. Frowning, he took the book and studied the page with a blank expression.

"Does this make sense to you?" He asked and turned the book around, so she could see the page. There was an old-fashioned sketch of a small town on one side and on the other stood its name: Salem.

Bonnie felt the blood drain from her face.

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	2. Chapter 2

For disclaimer please see 1st chapter.

A/N: A big, fat, heart-felt 'Thank you!!!' to everyone who took the time to review and/or add this to their favorites and/or their alerts. I swear, I didn't expect such a response and was positively overwhelmed. You people are amazing and I'm doing my very best to live up to your expectations. Thanks again for all your support, it inspires me and makes me grin like a lunatic. A very happy lunatic.

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"You and Damon?"

Bonnie pressed her lips together in disapproval. "There is no 'me and Damon'." She corrected Elena in a tense voice that would have given any other girl pause. However, years of friendship came into pass and Elena merely raised an eyebrow. "Seriously." Bonnie insisted. "There's not even a shred of 'me and Damon'."

"Except where it totally is." Elena said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she sat down on Bonnie's bed, absentmindedly inspecting the cookies the girls had brought up to the room with them. Between the two of them and their chocoholic tendencies there was no way Bonnie was going to be able to finish her packing without some sustenance in the form of chocolate covered cookies. Elena took a small bite, then smiled. "So I say it again - you and _Damon_?"

Bonnie groaned and threw a pillow at her friend. "Look, we're just...I mean I have to get to Salem somehow and he has a car."

"So do you."

"He has a sense of direction."

"So do..." Elena hesitated, recalling the numerous times Bonnie had managed to get herself hopelessly lost, and remained silent on that particular matter. For a moment, at least. "You could have taken a map. Or someone else."

"It has to be Damon." Bonnie said, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

Elena frowned. "Why is that? You said your dream said to go to Salem, not to take him with you."

"My dream said there'd be a sign – which there was. The books going all wonky."

Elena nodded. Hard as it was to accept that her world was suddenly filled with vampires and witches and things that went bump in the night, she found it curiously easy to trust in Bonnie's instincts. She was surprisingly comfortable with Bonnie being the way she was – even if that meant that her best friend might not be entirely normal any more.

"How does that get Damon into the equation?" She asked quietly. "I mean, I'm relieved you take him with you – don't give me that scandalized look, Bonnie, I really am. He's not the worst company in the world."

Bonnie huffed and picked up a shirt, eying it speculatively. "Yes, he's the man of my dreams." She said in a dry voice, discarding the shirt as too thin for the weather. "I always wanted to be trapped in a car with the vampire equivalent of Hannibal Lecter."

Elena burst out laughing. Fun as it was to spend time with Stefan and his troublesome big brother, there was just something about being together like this with her best friend that felt soothingly normal. Her giggles subsiding, Elena held up another shirt. "Take this one. Brings out your eyes."

"I have no intention of bringing out my eyes." Bonnie informed her regally – but the shirt nevertheless vanished in her bag.

Smiling fondly, Elena took another cookie. "By the way, you're still evading my question. Why Damon? Why not...Matt for instance?"

"Because..." Bonnie stopped in mid-movement, suddenly lost in thought. "I don't know." She finally admitted, knowing that she wasn't entirely truthful. For the barest moment she had felt a connection with Damon. A sudden glimpse of understanding and – goodness be kind on her – affection. For the fraction of a second Bonnie had had to keep herself from hugging the lonely man and it had been that exact moment that she knew intuitively that he had to come with her. And Damon seemed to feel it, too. Why else would he have offered to come with her immediately? Of course, Bonnie realized with a dry little smile, that Damon hadn't exactly _offered_. With his usual lack of tact he'd told her he was going to come along. Simply invited himself, the arrogant idiot.

"What are you smiling about?" Elena asked and leaned forward. "He didn't do anything indecent to you, did he?"

"Not more than usual." Bonnie replied and, at Elena's questioning look, proceeded to elaborate. "I mean, the man himself is indecent, isn't he? How can someone so unpleasant look this...pleasant?" She finished a bit lamely, then shared a smile with Elena.

Elena sat up from the bed to take something out of her bag. "He's obscenely attractive."

"Too bad he's a blood-sucking sociopath."

"A blood-sucking sociopath you insist on dragging along on your little trip." Elena specified, then – with a small, satisfied sound – pulled a little box from her bag and held it out to Bonnie. "Something to make the trip bearable."

Bonnie brightened. "Chocolate?"

Elena rolled her eyes and put a small pendant into Bonnie's hands. "Vervain pendant." She then held up the box and indicated a small flask. "No alcohol, if that's what you're suspecting but the essence of vervain. A few drops into your morning coffee should suffice."

Bonnie raised an eyebrow, the levity of before forgotten. "I see this is Stefan's paranoia speaking." Nevertheless she was glad for the precautions. As much as she liked to pretend otherwise, Bonnie hadn't forgotten just what she was going to depart with. Despite having met other vampires later on – even almost dating one of them – none had come even close to invoking the terror Damon had forced her to feel when he bit her. Sure, Elena had explained it all. The poor blood-thirsty darling had just lost his chance to see his long-lost love again and felt that he wasn't biting Bonnie, but rather her ancestor Emily who had possessed her body at the time (what was it with her life spiraling out of control so badly in such a short time, Bonnie wondered absentmindedly). Still, it had been her who'd seen him rush at her, face contorted into something not human. It had been a nightmare come true. Pain, helplessness and anger all at once, all that leaving a part of her (the sane part, Bonnie rationalized) terrified of vampires – and Damon in particular. And now she was going on an extended trip with him of all people.

A hand on her shoulder brought Bonnie back to the present.

"You're trembling." Elena said quietly and rubbed Bonnie's upper arms.

"I'm going to _bathe_ in vervain if necessary."

A small smile touched Elena's lips. "You won't have to. As soon as I heard about your little idea, I had a little talk with Damon." More specifically, Stefan and her had had a little talk, she recalled but didn't point that out. "He promised to keep you safe."

Bonnie's eyebrows rose. "Come again?"

"Damon promised to protect you. He promised it to me."

Bonnie exhaled slowly. "And he's known for keeping his word." She said, her muscles tensing up. What the hell had she been thinking? She might make it to Salem but either her life or her sanity were sure to be lost on the way. Quite possibly both.

Elena soothingly rubbed Bonnie's shoulder again. "I trust him."

"You shouldn't. He's a vampire."

"Stefan is a vampire."

"Stefan is...different." Bonnie said, biting her bottom lip.

"Not _that_ different." Elena said and smiled at Bonnie's incredulous look. "See, Damon is a very honorable man. He has this very strange sense of duty and, well, honor and Bonnie, please stop laughing at me. He does."

"And you would know that - _how_?"

"I've known him a bit better than you and of course there's Stefan who..."

"Who is such an expert at handling his brother?" Bonnie smiled to take the sting out of her words. "Look, I know what I'm getting myself into. I'm scared but I need to do this. I know what I'm doing."

Elena nodded and forced a smile to her face. Bonnie didn't know what she was getting herself into. Elena had spent the past night talking things over with Stefan and Damon who had explained that Bonnie, unbeknownst to herself, was in a rather...exposed position right now. As a witch, the magic in her blood served like a homing beacon, drawing the attention of predators who were almost magnetically drawn to her blood. Usually a witch would be protected by her skills but Bonnie's education as a witch had stopped almost before it really began with her grandmother's untimely death. Thus just enough magic had awakened in Bonnie to draw attention but she knew too little to be able to defend herself properly against those prying on her – Stefan had staunchly refused to go into details here, no matter how hard Elena pressed. It had been at that point that Damon had declared he'd protect Bonnie – as usual refusing to give any further explanation of his actions, merely announcing his decision and expecting the world to go along with it. And curiously enough, that seemed to be enough to soothe Stefan's fears. They'd agreed not to tell Bonnie lest they'd give her an unnecessary scare. She was going to be safe with Damon – as long as Damon kept his own blood-lust under control and resisted the lure of Bonnie's blood. A lure that grew stronger with each moment that Bonnie became more aware of her powers.

Elena sighed and nodded again. There was nothing she could do about it now but trust in Damon (and that thought alone was scary enough).

"You have my number on speed-dial. Call me if there's anything wrong or if you just want to talk. Oh, and one more thing..." She said and pushed a little book into Bonnie's hands. It was covered with a picture of interloping flowers, a mixture of green and pink and purple and – as Bonnie found out once he opened it – it had blank, lined pages.

Elena's smile became more heartfelt. "I thought a diary would be a good thing to have on your trip. God knows, with Damon by your side this might be the only chance at a sane conversation you'll get."

Bonnie giggled and pulled Elena into a hug, squishing the gift-box holding the flask of vervain essence between them. "Thank you." She breathed and rested her chin on Elena's shoulder (a hard thing to do as Elena was taller than her).

"Also." Elena said in a thick voice. "I figure since you're becoming a regular witch now, it's time you start your own grimoire, right?"

Bonnie nodded, her eyes filled with tears. She opened her mouth to reply when a loud honking sound split the silence.

"I guess that means the boys are done with the car." Bonnie said and stepped back, putting the box and her new grimoire/diary into her bag before both girls stepped to the window and looked down at Stefan and Damon who looked to be partaking in a heated argument. Again. "Boys." They sighed simultaneously and shared a knowing grin only the best of friends could share.

"Stefan!" Elena called down and the younger brother looked up and gave her a wave. "Did you fix the car?"

"Damon claims he did it." Stefan shrugged and, with inhuman reflexes, caught the oil-stained cloth his brother threw at his head.

"Of course I did it." Damon said indignantly, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. "Now get down here. I'd like to depart some time this century."

"But are you sure the car will hold up?" Elena asked, a small frown on her face. "What about that clacking sound you mentioned before?"

She could see Damon rolling his eyes even from that distance. "I got it, Ka...Elena." He averted his eyes for a moment, then impatiently turned to the car, incapable of looking at the girl who looked just like the love of his life. The love that had abandoned him like some toy she'd lost interest in. Damon balled his fists and swallowed down the lump in his throat. It was the smart thing to leave this place. To get away from the constant reminder of...Damon swallowed again, then exhaled very slowly.

"Get down here, girls and let's go. And stop worrying about the damn car. I_ fixed_ it."

~*~

They were in the middle of a nowhere with the afternoon-sun shining brightly down on them when the car broke down. For the longest time the only sound in the car had been a constant clacking and clicking that grew louder with each mile and was staunchly ignored by both occupants until there was a sudden "bang!" and the car stopped moving. Whites fume was coming out from underneath the engine hood, obscuring their vision and plunging their world into fog. It was silent except for the hiss of the fume. Moments trickled by. Bonnie pressed her hand to her mouth to keep herself from giggling hysterically. Damon gave her a dark look that spoke of death and destruction.

"Don't. Say. A. Word." He said through clenched teeth.

Bonnie shook her head silently, her hand still firmly pressed against her mouth lest a sound might escape her.

"I'm going to check this out." Damon said with forced calm. "Stay in the car."

He got out, two bright red spots on his pale cheeks and reached out to open the hood. Bonnie winced even before his hand made contact with it and sure enough a moment later Damon had snatched his hand back, followed by a rapid stream of obscenities directed at life in general and the car in particular. Bonnie sighed and got out as well, joining him in front of the car.

Wordlessly, Bonnie gave Damon an inquisitive look. He was holding his hand, looking a bit sheepish. Finally he did what Bonnie had come to think of as "the eyebrow thing" - a quick tilt of the head, his eyebrows raising and lowering once while a rueful half-smile flashed over his face, giving him the air of a little boy who knew exactly that he'd messed up but who also knew that he was just too adorable for people to remain seriously angry with him.

"Ouch." Damon said and almost against her will Bonnie found herself returning his smile. Clearly the man couldn't help himself – he just had to charm everyone he came into contact with. Bonnie sighed and watched Damon wrap a bit of his shirt around his hand and open the hood. Immediately a new gust of fume obscured their vision and and she felt Damon's arm pulling her back just a little bit, so she wouldn't inhale any of it.

"Looks like we're stuck here for a little while." She said, moving back to avoid contact. The last time she had been touched by Damon it had been his teeth sinking into the skin of her neck. She shivered and put a bit more distance between them. If Damon noticed, then he did a good job of hiding it, instead approaching the car again in order to get a look at what was wrong. He waved the last remains of the fumes away, tugged at his shirt to keep it wrapped around his hand, then had to realize that it wouldn't work. There was too little material. For a moment he looked indecisive, tugging at the edge of his shirt, contemplating whether or not to pull it off. He tugged it out of his pants and looked at it for a moment. Bonnie bit her bottom lip without realizing it even as Damon shook his head.

"I can't do this to you." He muttered with a look at his shirt and went to fetch a towel from somewhere in the depths of the car. Bonnie exhaled and told herself very firmly that the feeling of disappointment she faced when Damon went for the car to get a towel instead of taking off his shirt had everything to do with the fact that they were stuck here for the moment and nothing with wanting to catch a glimpse of...Bonnie bit her bottom lip again. This was embarrassing.

"How long do you think it'll take until we can go on?" She asked, both out of interest and to distract herself. He was now peering at the motor or whatever else was hidden beneath the hood. "Damon? Can you fix this?"

His head came out from beneath the hood, looking offended. "Of course I can fix this." He said, then vanished again. For a moment there was nothing but the sound of whatever Damon was doing to fix the car and his muffled curses. Bonnie pursed her lips.

"Different question. How quickly can you fix this? I'd like to go on some time this century." She quoted him and earned a growl for that.

"If you're in such a hurry why don't you just conjure us a new engine? Or a motor? Or just grab your broomstick and fly us out of here."

"That's helpful, Damon." Bonnie said, matching his sarcasm perfectly. There was a bang, another curse and Damon reappeared from beneath the hood, streaks of oil staining his shirt and face.

"Forgive me, little witch, if I offended you. Being a woman of the 21st century you own a flying vacuum cleaner, of course."

"Not that you're in a position to say much about being clean right now." She shot back, her fists balling at her sides.

"You think you can fix this better than I can?" He wiped his hands on the oil-stained towel and glared. "Give it a try. Be my guest."

"I'm not the one who claimed the car is in perfectly fine condition when we left!""

"No, you're the one standing on the side, being useless!"

Bonnie's jaw dropped. With blazing eyes she approached and shoved Damon aside. Or rather, she shoved Damon, only to find that she couldn't move him.

"Move over." Bonnie said through gritted teeth. "Let me do this."

Damon raised an eyebrow. "_You _can fix a car?"

"Well, one of us has to, right?" She pulled her hair back, then tied it up into a messy ponytail to keep it out of her face. Wearing a concentrated expression Bonnie leaned over the car and took a good look inside barely aware how Damon was watching he every move with growing respect. She had always been the kind of girl who would be puzzled by the use of a toaster or who could get lost in a shopping mall but she knew her way around an engine. One of the perks of growing up the daughter of a mechanic.

A few moments later things became clear to her. They had effectively managed to kill the motor somehow. Bonnie sighed and wiped a stray strand of hair out of her face, leaving an oil streak across her face. "We need a new..."

"Shhhh..." Damon put a finger to her lips, suddenly tense.

"What are you..?"

His hand clamped over her mouth, keeping her from screaming. Bonnie's worst fears came true in a heartbeat as she struggled against Damon's grip. He was going to bite her. She clawed at his face and the sharp intake of breath told her that she had effectively hurt him but still Damon didn't release his hold on her. Bonnie kicked and tired to bite and scream but Damon held on, his lips close to her ear.

"Bonnie, damnit. _Shut. Up._" He whispered harshly, struggling to keep her quiet. "We're not alone. Something is stalking us."

"Whu?" She asked against his hand, then everything happened very quickly. Bonnie could feel Damon's muscles tensing as he held her and before she even had a chance to catch her breath, they were moving. Something slammed into the ground they had occupied only moments before and Bonnie felt something – some sort of presence that made her blood run cold. And then she was in Damon's arms, the wind rushing past her face as he ran into the forest. Away from the street. The car. The last trace of civilization.

~*~

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~*~

A/N #02: ...and from now on they're on their own. No more cameos from Elena & Co ;)

Also, as of the next chapter I will probably be forced to change the rating to 'M'. I hope you'll enjoy this nevertheless and thank you for reading :)

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